Ruggles of Red Gap by Harry Leon Wilson

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[Illustration: "I TAKE IT YOU FAILED TO WIN THE HUNDRED POUNDS, SIR?"]

RUGGLES of RED GAP

By

Harry Leon Wilson

1915

[Dedication]TO HELEN COOKE WILSON

CHAPTER ONE

At 6:30 in our Paris apartment I had finished the Honourable George,performing those final touches that make the difference between a manwell turned out and a man merely dressed. In the main I was notdissatisfied. His dress waistcoats, it is true, no longer permit theinhalation of anything like a full breath, and his collars clasp tooclosely. (I have always held that a collar may provide quite ampleroom for the throat without sacrifice of smartness if the depth be atleast two and one quarter inches.) And it is no secret to either theHonourable George or our intimates that I have never approved hisfashion of beard, a reddish, enveloping, brushlike affair never nicelyenough trimmed. I prefer, indeed, no beard at all, but he stubbornlyrefuses to shave, possessing a difficult chin. Still, I repeat, he wasnot nearly impossible as he now left my hands.

"Dining with the Americans," he remarked, as I conveyed the hat,gloves, and stick to him in their proper order.

"Yes, sir," I replied. "And might I suggest, sir, that your choice bea grilled undercut or something simple, bearing in mind the undoubtedeffects of shell-fish upon one's complexion?" The hard truth is thatafter even a very little lobster the Honourable George has a way ofcoming out in spots. A single oyster patty, too, will often spot himquite all over.

"What cheek! Decide that for myself," he retorted with a lame effortat dignity which he was unable to sustain. His eyes fell from mine."Besides, I'm almost quite certain that the last time it was themelon. Wretched things, melons!"

Then, as if to divert me, he rather fussily refused the correctevening stick I had chosen for him and seized a knobby bit ofthornwood suitable only for moor and upland work, and brazenly quitediscarded the gloves.

"Now, don't play the juggins," he retorted. "Let me be comfortable.And I don't mind telling you I stand to win a hundred quid this veryevening."

"I dare say," I replied. The sum was more than needed, but I had causeto be thus cynical.

"From the American Johnny with the eyebrows," he went on with a quitepathetic enthusiasm. "We're to play their American game ofpoker--drawing poker as they call it. I've watched them play for neara fortnight. It's beastly simple. One has only to know when to bluff."

"A hundred pounds, yes, sir. And if one loses----"

He flashed me a look so deucedly queer that it fair chilled me.

"I fancy you'll be even more interested than I if I lose," he remarkedin tones of a curious evenness that were somehow rather deadly. Thewords seemed pregnant with meaning, but before I could weigh them Iheard him noisily descending the stairs. It was only then I recalledhaving noticed that he had not changed to his varnished boots, havingstill on his feet the doggish and battered pair he most favoured. Itwas a trick of his to evade me with them. I did for them each day allthat human boot-cream could do, but they were things no sensitivegentleman would endure with evening dress. I was glad to reflect thatdoubtless only Americans would observe them.

So began the final hours of a 14th of July in Paris that must ever bememorable. My own birthday, it is also chosen by the French as one onwhich to celebrate with carnival some one of those regrettable eventsin their own distressing past.

To begin with, the day was marked first of all by the breezing in ofhis lordship the Earl of Brinstead, brother of the Honourable George,on his way to England from the Engadine. More peppery than usual hadhis lordship been, his grayish side-whiskers in angry upheaval and hisinflamed words exploding quite all over the place, so that theHonourable George and I had both perceived it to be no time foradmitting our recent financial reverse at the gaming tables of Ostend.On the contrary, we had gamely affirmed the last quarter's allowanceto be practically untouched--a desperate stand, indeed! But there wasthat in his lordship's manner to urge us to it, though even so heappeared to be not more than half deceived.

"No good greening me!" he exploded to both of us. "Tell in aflash--gambling, or a woman--typing-girl, milliner, dancing person,what, what! Guilty faces, both of you. Know you too well. My word,what, what!"

Again we stoutly protested while his lordship on the hearthrug rockedin his boots and glared. The Honourable George gamely rattled someloose coin of the baser sort in his pockets and tried in return for aglare of innocence foully aspersed. I dare say he fell short of it.His histrionic gifts are but meagre.

"Fools, quite fools, both of you!" exploded his lordship anew. "And,make it worse, no longer young fools. Young and a fool, people makeexcuses. Say, 'Fool? Yes, but so young!' But old and a fool--not aword to say, what, what! Silly rot at forty." He clutched hisside-whiskers with frenzied hands. He seemed to comb them to a morebristling rage.

I mean to say, he was coming it pretty thick, since he could not haveforgotten that each time I had warned him so he could hasten to savehis brother from distressing mesalliances. I refer to the affair withthe typing-girl and to the later entanglement with a Brixton millinerencountered informally under the portico of a theatre in Charing CrossRoad. But he was in no mood to concede that I had thus far shown ascrupulous care in these emergencies. Peppery he was, indeed. Hegathered hat and stick, glaring indignantly at each of them and thenat us.

"Greened me fair, haven't you, about money? Quite so, quite so! Nothear from you then till next quarter. No telegraphing--no beggingletters. Shouldn't a bit know what to make of them. Plenty you got tolast. Say so yourselves." He laughed villainously here. "Morning,"said he, and was out.

"Old Nevil been annoyed by something," said the Honourable Georgeafter a long silence. "Know the old boy too well. Always tell whenhe's been annoyed. Rather wish he hadn't been."

So we had come to the night of this memorable day, and to theHonourable George's departure on his mysterious words about thehundred pounds.

Left alone, I began to meditate profoundly. It was the closing of aday I had seen dawn with the keenest misgiving, having had reason tobelieve it might be fraught with significance if not disaster tomyself. The year before a gypsy at Epsom had solemnly warned me that agreat change would come into my life on or before my fortiethbirthday. To this I might have paid less heed but for its disquietingconfirmation on a later day at a psychic parlour in Edgware Road.Proceeding there in company with my eldest brother-in-law, aplate-layer and surfaceman on the Northern (he being uncertain aboutthe Derby winner for that year), I was told by the person for a trifleof two shillings that I was soon to cross water and to meet manystrange adventures. True, later events proved her to have beenpsychically unsound as to the Derby winner (so that my brother-in-law,who was out two pounds ten, thereby threatened to have an actionagainst her); yet her reference to myself had confirmed the words ofthe gypsy; so it will be plain why I had been anxious the whole ofthis birthday.

For one thing, I had gone on the streets as little as possible, thoughI should naturally have done that, for the behaviour of the French onthis bank holiday of theirs is repugnant in the extreme to the saneEnglish point of view--I mean their frivolous public dancing andmarked conversational levity. Indeed, in their soberest moments, theyhave too little of British weight. Their best-dressed men areapparently turned out not by menservants but by modistes. I will notsay their women are without a gift for wearing gowns, and their chefshave unquestionably got at the inner meaning of food, but as a peopleat large they would never do with us. Even their language is not basedon reason. I have had occasion, for example, to acquire their word forbread, which is "pain." As if that were not wild enough, theymispronounce it atrociously. Yet for years these people have beenseparated from us only by a narrow strip of water!

By keeping close to our rooms, then, I had thought to evade what ofevil might have been in store for me on this day. Another evening Imight have ventured abroad to a cinema palace, but this was no timefor daring, and I took a further precaution of locking our doors.Then, indeed, I had no misgiving save that inspired by the last wordsof the Honourable George. In the event of his losing the game of pokerI was to be even more concerned than he. Yet how could evil come tome, even should the American do him in the eye rather frightfully? Intruth, I had not the faintest belief that the Honourable George wouldwin the game. He fancies himself a card-player, though why he should,God knows. At bridge with him every hand is a no-trumper. I need notsay more. Also it occurred to me that the American would be a personnot accustomed to losing. There was that about him.

More than once I had deplored this rather Bohemian taste of theHonourable George which led him to associate with Americans as readilyas with persons of his own class; and especially had I regretted hisintimacy with the family in question. Several times I had observedthem, on the occasion of bearing messages from the HonourableGeorge--usually his acceptance of an invitation to dine. Too obviouslythey were rather a handful. I mean to say, they were people who couldperhaps matter in their own wilds, but they would never do with us.

Their leader, with whom the Honourable George had consented to gamethis evening, was a tall, careless-spoken person, with a narrow, darkface marked with heavy black brows that were rather tremendous intheir effect when he did not smile. Almost at my first meeting him Idivined something of the public man in his bearing, a suggestion,perhaps, of the confirmed orator, a notion in which I was somehowfurther set by the gesture with which he swept back his carelesslyfalling forelock. I was not surprised, then, to hear him referred toas the "Senator." In some unexplained manner, the Honourable George,who is never as reserved in public as I could wish him to be, hadchummed up with this person at one of the race-tracks, and hadthereafter been almost quite too pally with him and with the verycurious other members of his family--the name being Floud.

The wife might still be called youngish, a bit florid in type,plumpish, with yellow hair, though to this a stain had been applied,leaving it in deficient consonance with her eyebrows; these shadinggrayish eyes that crackled with determination. Rather on the largeside she was, forcible of speech and manner, yet curiously eager, Ihad at once detected, for the exactly correct thing in dress anddeportment.

The remaining member of the family was a male cousin of the so-calledSenator, his senior evidently by half a score of years, since I tookhim to have reached the late fifties. "Cousin Egbert" he was called,and it was at once apparent to me that he had been most direlysubjugated by the woman whom he addressed with great respect as "Mrs.Effie." Rather a seamed and drooping chap he was, with mild,whitish-blue eyes like a porcelain doll's, a mournfully drooped graymoustache, and a grayish jumble of hair. I early remarked his huntedlook in the presence of the woman. Timid and soft-stepping he wasbeyond measure.

Such were the impressions I had been able to glean of these altogetherqueer people during the fortnight since the Honourable George had solawlessly taken them up. Lodged they were in an hotel among the mostexpensive situated near what would have been our Trafalgar Square, andI later recalled that I had been most interestedly studied by theso-called "Mrs. Effie" on each of the few occasions I appeared there.I mean to say, she would not be above putting to me intimate questionsconcerning my term of service with the Honourable George AugustusVane-Basingwell, the precise nature of the duties I performed for him,and even the exact sum of my honourarium. On the last occasion she hadremarked--and too well I recall a strange glitter in her competenteyes--"You are just the man needed by poor Cousin Egbert there--youcould make something of him. Look at the way he's tied that cravatafter all I've said to him."

The person referred to here shivered noticeably, stroked his chin in amanner enabling him to conceal the cravat, and affected nervously tobe taken with a sight in the street below. In some embarrassment Iwithdrew, conscious of a cold, speculative scrutiny bent upon me bythe woman.

If I have seemed tedious in my recital of the known facts concerningthese extraordinary North American natives, it will, I am sure, beforgiven me in the light of those tragic developments about to ensue.

Meantime, let me be pictured as reposing in fancied security from allevil predictions while I awaited the return of the Honourable George.I was only too certain he would come suffering from an acute aciddyspepsia, for I had seen lobster in his shifty eyes as he left me;but beyond this I apprehended nothing poignant, and I gave myself upto meditating profoundly upon our situation.

Frankly, it was not good. I had done my best to cheer the HonourableGeorge, but since our brief sojourn at Ostend, and despite the almostcontinuous hospitality of the Americans, he had been having, to put itbluntly, an awful hump. At Ostend, despite my remonstrance, he hadstaked and lost the major portion of his quarter's allowance intesting a system at the wheel which had been warranted by the personwho sold it to him in London to break any bank in a day's play. He hadmeant to pause but briefly at Ostend, for little more than a test ofthe system, then proceed to Monte Carlo, where his proposed terrificwinnings would occasion less alarm to the managers. Yet at Ostend thesystem developed such grave faults in the first hour of play that wewere forced to lay up in Paris to economize.

For myself I had entertained doubts of the system from the moment ofits purchase, for it seemed awfully certain to me that the vendorwould have used it himself instead of parting with it for a couple ofquid, he being in plain need of fresh linen and smarter boots, to saynothing of the quite impossible lounge-suit he wore the night we methim in a cab shelter near Covent Garden. But the Honourable George hadnot listened to me. He insisted the chap had made it all enormouslyclear; that those mathematical Johnnies never valued money for its ownsake, and that we should presently be as right as two sparrows in acrate.

Fearfully annoyed I was at the denouement. For now we were in Paris,rather meanly lodged in a dingy hotel on a narrow street leading fromwhat with us might have been Piccadilly Circus. Our rooms were rathera good height with a carved cornice and plaster enrichments, but thefurnishings were musty and the general air depressing, notwithstandingthe effect of a few good mantel ornaments which I have long made it arule to carry with me.

Then had come the meeting with the Americans. Glad I was to reflectthat this had occurred in Paris instead of London. That sort of thinggets about so. Even from Paris I was not a little fearful that news ofhis mixing with this raffish set might get to the ears of hislordship either at the town house or at Chaynes-Wotten. True, hislordship is not over-liberal with his brother, but that is smallreason for affronting the pride of a family that attained its earldomin the fourteenth century. Indeed the family had become importantquite long before this time, the first Vane-Basingwell having beenbeheaded by no less a personage than William the Conqueror, as Ilearned in one of the many hours I have been privileged to browse inthe Chaynes-Wotten library.

It need hardly be said that in my long term of service with theHonourable George, beginning almost from the time my mother nursedhim, I have endeavoured to keep him up to his class, combating acertain laxness that has hampered him. And most stubborn he is, andwilful. At games he is almost quite a duffer. I once got him to playoutside left on a hockey eleven and he excited much comment, some ofwhich was of a favourable nature, but he cares little for hunting orshooting and, though it is scarce a matter to be gossiped of, heloathes cricket. Perhaps I have disclosed enough concerning him.Although the Vane-Basingwells have quite almost always married theright people, the Honourable George was beyond question born queer.

Again, in the matter of marriage, he was difficult. His lordship,having married early into a family of poor lifes, was now long awidower, and meaning to remain so he had been especially concernedthat the Honourable George should contract a proper alliance. Henceour constant worry lest he prove too susceptible out of his class.More than once had he shamefully funked his fences. There was thedistressing instance of the Honourable Agatha Cradleigh. Quite allthat could be desired of family and dower she was, thirty-two yearsold, a bit faded though still eager, with the rather immensely highforehead and long, thin, slightly curved Cradleigh nose.

The Honourable George at his lordship's peppery urging had at lastconsented to a betrothal, and our troubles for a time promised to beover, but it came to precisely nothing. I gathered it might have beenbecause she wore beads on her gown and was interested in uplift work,or that she bred canaries, these birds being loathed by the HonourableGeorge with remarkable intensity, though it might equally have beenthat she still mourned a deceased fiance of her early girlhood, acurate, I believe, whose faded letters she had preserved and wouldread to the Honourable George at intimate moments, weeping bitterlythe while. Whatever may have been his fancied objection--that is thetime we disappeared and were not heard of for near a twelvemonth.

Wondering now I was how we should last until the next quarter'sallowance. We always had lasted, but each time it was a different way.The Honourable George at a crisis of this sort invariably spoke ofentering trade, and had actually talked of selling motor-cars,pointing out to me that even certain rulers of Europe had franklyentered this trade as agents. It might have proved remunerative had heknown anything of motor-cars, but I was more than glad he did not, forI have always considered machinery to be unrefined. Much I preferredthat he be a company promoter or something of that sort in the city,knowing about bonds and debentures, as many of the best of ourfamilies are not above doing. It seemed all he could do withpropriety, having failed in examinations for the army and the church,and being incurably hostile to politics, which he declared silly rot.

Sharply at midnight I aroused myself from these gloomy thoughts andbreathed a long sigh of relief. Both gipsy and psychic expert hadfailed in their prophecies. With a lightened heart I set about thepreparations I knew would be needed against the Honourable George'sreturn. Strong in my conviction that he would not have been able toresist lobster, I made ready his hot foot-bath with its solution ofbrine-crystals and put the absorbent fruit-lozenges close by, togetherwith his sleeping-suit, his bed-cap, and his knitted night-socks.Scarcely was all ready when I heard his step.

He greeted me curtly on entering, swiftly averting his face as I tookhis stick, hat, and top-coat. But I had seen the worst at one glance.The Honourable George was more than spotted--he was splotchy. It wasas bad as that.

"Lobster _and_ oysters," I made bold to remark, but he affectednot to have heard, and proceeded rapidly to disrobe. He accepted thefoot-bath without demur, pulling a blanket well about his shoulders,complaining of the water's temperature, and demanding three of thefruit-lozenges.

"Not what you think at all," he then said. "It was that cursedbar-le-duc jelly. Always puts me this way, and you quite well knowit."

"Yes, sir, to be sure," I answered gravely, and had the satisfactionof noting that he looked quite a little foolish. Too well he knew Icould not be deceived, and even now I could surmise that the lobsterhad been supported by sherry. How many times have I not explained tohim that sherry has double the tonic vinosity of any other wine andmay not be tampered with by the sensitive. But he chose at present tomake light of it, almost as if he were chaffing above his knowledge ofsome calamity.

"Some book Johnny says a chap is either a fool or a physician atforty," he remarked, drawing the blanket more closely about him.

"I should hardly rank you as a Harley Street consultant, sir," Iswiftly retorted, which was slanging him enormously because he hadturned forty. I mean to say, there was but one thing he could take meas meaning him to be, since at forty I considered him no physician.But at least I had not been too blunt, the touch about the HarleyStreet consultant being rather neat, I thought, yet not too subtle forhim.

He now demanded a pipe of tobacco, and for a time smoked in silence. Icould see that his mind worked painfully.

"Stiffish lot, those Americans," he said at last.

"They do so many things one doesn't do," I answered.

"And their brogue is not what one could call top-hole, is it now? Howoften they say 'I guess!' I fancy they must say it a score of times ina half-hour."

"I fancy they do, sir," I agreed.

"I fancy that Johnny with the eyebrows will say it even oftener."

"I fancy so, sir. I fancy I've counted it well up to that."

"I fancy you're quite right. And the chap 'guesses' when he awfullywell knows, too. That's the essential rabbit. To-night he said 'Iguess I've got you beaten to a pulp,' when I fancy he wasn't guessingat all. I mean to say, I swear he knew it perfectly."

"You lost the game of drawing poker?" I asked coldly, though I knew hehad carried little to lose.

"I lost----" he began. I observed he was strangely embarrassed. Hestrangled over his pipe and began anew: "I said that to play the gamesoundly you've only to know when to bluff. Studied it out myself, andjolly well right I was, too, as far as I went. But there's further togo in the silly game. I hadn't observed that to play it greatly onemust also know when one's opponent is bluffing."

"Really, sir?"

"Oh, really; quite important, I assure you. More important than onewould have believed, watching their silly ways. You fancy a chap'sbluffing when he's doing nothing of the sort. I'd enormously haveliked to know it before we played. Things would have been so awfullydifferent for us"--he broke off curiously, paused, then added--"foryou."

"Different for me, sir?" His words seemed gruesome. They seemed opento some vaguely sinister interpretation. But I kept myself steady.

"We live and learn, sir," I said, lightly enough.

"Some of us learn too late," he replied, increasingly ominous.

"I take it you failed to win the hundred pounds, sir?"

[Illustration: "I TAKE IT YOU FAILED TO WIN THE HUNDRED POUNDS, SIR?"]

"I have the hundred pounds; I won it--by losing."

Again he evaded my eye.

"Played, indeed, sir," said I.

"You jolly well won't believe that for long."

Now as he had the hundred pounds, I couldn't fancy what the deuce andall he meant by such prattle. I was half afraid he might be having meon, as I have known him do now and again when he fancied he could getme. I fearfully wanted to ask questions. Again I saw the dark,absorbed face of the gipsy as he studied my future.

"Rotten shift, life is," now murmured the Honourable George quite asif he had forgotten me. "If I'd have but put through that Monte Carloaffair I dare say I'd have chucked the whole business--gone to SouthAfrica, perhaps, and set up a mine or a plantation. Shouldn't havecome back. Just cut off, and good-bye to this mess. But no capital.Can't do things without capital. Where these American Johnnies havethe pull of us. Do anything. Nearly do what they jolly well like to.No sense to money. Stuff that runs blind. Look at the silly beggarsthat have it----" On he went quite alarmingly with his tirade. Almostas violent he was as an ugly-headed chap I once heard ranting when Iwent with my brother-in-law to a meeting of the North Brixton RadicalClub. Quite like an anarchist he was. Presently he quieted. After along pull at his pipe he regarded me with an entire change of manner.Well I knew something was coming; coming swift as a rocketingwoodcock. Word for word I put down our incredible speeches:

"You are going out to America, Ruggles."

"Yes, sir; North or South, sir?"

"North, I fancy; somewhere on the West coast--Ohio, Omaha, one of thoseIndian places."

"Chap's wife taken a great fancy to you. Would have you to do for thefunny, sad beggar. So he's won you. Won you in a game of drawingpoker. Another man would have done as well, but the creature was keenfor you. Great strength of character. Determined sort. Hope you won'tthink I didn't play soundly, but it's not a forthright game. Thinkthey're bluffing when they aren't. When they are you mayn't think it.So far as hiding one's intentions, it's a most rottenly immoral game.Low, animal cunning--that sort of thing."

"Do I understand I was the stake, sir?" I controlled myself to say.The heavens seemed bursting about my head.

"Ultimately lost you were by the very trifling margin of superioritythat a hand known as a club flush bears over another hand consistingof three of the eights--not quite all of them, you understand, onlythree, and two other quite meaningless cards."

I could but stammer piteously, I fear. I heard myself make a wretchedfailure of words that crowded to my lips.

"But it's quite simple, I tell you. I dare say I could show it you ina moment if you've cards in your box."

"Thank you, sir, I'll not trouble you. I'm certain it was simple. Butwould you mind telling me what exactly the game was played for?"

"Knew you'd not understand at once. My word, it was not too ballysimple. If I won I'd a hundred pounds. If I lost I'd to give you up tothem but still to receive a hundred pounds. I suspect the Johnny'sconscience pricked him. Thought you were worth a hundred pounds, andguessed all the time he could do me awfully in the eye with his poker.Quite set they were on having you. Eyebrow chap seemed to think it ajolly good wheeze. She didn't, though. Quite off her head at havingyou for that glum one who does himself so badly."

Dazed I was, to be sure, scarce comprehending the calamity that hadbefallen us.

"Am I to understand, sir, that I am now in the service of theAmericans?"

"Stupid! Of course, of course! Explained clearly, haven't I, about theclub flush and the three eights. Only three of them, mind you. If theother one had been in my hand, I'd have done him. As narrow a squeakas that. But I lost. And you may be certain I lost gamely, as agentleman should. No laughing matter, but I laughed with them--exceptthe funny, sad one. He was worried and made no secret of it. They weregood enough to say I took my loss like a dead sport."

More of it followed, but always the same. Ever he came back to thesickening, concise point that I was to go out to the Americanwilderness with these grotesque folk who had but the most elementarynotions of what one does and what one does not do. Always he concludedwith his boast that he had taken his loss like a dead sport. He becamevexed at last by my painful efforts to understand how, precisely, thedreadful thing had come about. But neither could I endure more. I fledto my room. He had tried again to impress upon me that three eightsare but slightly inferior to the flush of clubs.

I faced my glass. My ordinary smooth, full face seemed to haveshrivelled. The marks of my anguish were upon me. Vainly had I lockedmyself in. The gipsy's warning had borne its evil fruit. Sold, I'dbeen; even as once the poor blackamoors were sold into Americanbondage. I recalled one of their pathetic folk-songs in which thewretches were wont to make light of their lamentable estate; a thing Ihad often heard sung by a black with a banjo on the pier at Brighton;not a genuine black, only dyed for the moment he was, but I had neverlost the plaintive quality of the verses:

"Away down South in Michigan, Where I was so happy and so gay, 'Twas there I mowed the cotton and the cane----"

How poignantly the simple words came back to me! A slave, day afterday mowing his owner's cotton and cane, plucking the maize from thesavannahs, yet happy and gay! Should I be equal to this spirit? TheHonourable George had lost; so I, his pawn, must also submit like adead sport.

How little I then dreamed what adventures, what adversities, whatignominies--yes, and what triumphs were to be mine in those backblocks of North America! I saw but a bleak wilderness, a distressingcontact with people who never for a moment would do with us. Ishuddered. I despaired.

And outside the windows gay Paris laughed and sang in the dance, everunheeding my plight!

CHAPTER TWO

In that first sleep how often do we dream that our calamity has beenonly a dream. It was so in my first moments of awakening. Vestiges ofsome grotesquely hideous nightmare remained with me. Wearing theshackles of the slave, I had been mowing the corn under the fierce sunthat beats down upon the American savannahs. Sickeningly, then, a windof memory blew upon me and I was alive to my situation.

Nor was I forgetful of the plight in which the Honourable George wouldnow find himself. He is as good as lost when not properly lookedafter. In the ordinary affairs of life he is a simple, trusting,incompetent duffer, if ever there was one. Even in so rudimentary amatter as collar-studs he is like a storm-tossed mariner--I mean tosay, like a chap in a boat on the ocean who doesn't know what sails topull up nor how to steer the silly rudder.

One rather feels exactly that about him.

And now he was bound to go seedy beyond description--like the time atMentone when he dreamed a system for playing the little horses, afterwhich for a fortnight I was obliged to nurse a well-connected invalidin order that we might last over till next remittance day. The havoche managed to wreak among his belongings in that time would scarce bebelieved should I set it down--not even a single boot properlytreed--and his appearance when I was enabled to recover him (my clienthaving behaved most handsomely on the eve of his departure for Spain)being such that I passed him in the hotel lounge without even anod--climbing-boots, with trousers from his one suit of boatingflannels, a blazered golfing waistcoat, his best morning-coat with thewide braid, a hunting-stock and a motoring-cap, with his beard morethan discursive, as one might say, than I had ever seen it. If Idisclose this thing it is only that my fears for him may becomprehended when I pictured him being permanently out of hand.

Meditating thus bitterly, I had but finished dressing when I wasstartled by a knock on my door and by the entrance, to my summons, ofthe elder and more subdued Floud, he of the drooping mustaches and themournful eyes of pale blue. One glance at his attire brought freshlyto my mind the atrocious difficulties of my new situation. I may becredited or not, but combined with tan boots and wretchedly fittingtrousers of a purple hue he wore a black frock-coat, revealing far,far too much of a blue satin "made" cravat on which was painted acluster of tiny white flowers--lilies of the valley, I should say.Unbelievably above this monstrous melange was a rather low-crownedbowler hat.

Hardly repressing a shudder, I bowed, whereupon he advanced solemnlyto me and put out his hand. To cover the embarrassing situationtactfully I extended my own, and we actually shook hands, although theclasp was limply quite formal.

"How do you do, Mr. Ruggles?" he began.

I bowed again, but speech failed me.

"She sent me over to get you," he went on. He uttered the word "She"with such profound awe that I knew he could mean none other than Mrs.Effie. It was most extraordinary, but I dare say only what was to havebeen expected from persons of this sort. In any good-class club oramong gentlemen at large it is customary to allow one at leasttwenty-four hours for the payment of one's gambling debts. Yet there Iwas being collected by the winner at so early an hour as half-afterseven. If I had been a five-pound note instead of myself, I fancy itwould have been quite the same. These Americans would most indecentlyhave sent for their winnings before the Honourable George hadawakened. One would have thought they had expected him to refusepayment of me after losing me the night before. How little they seemedto realize that we were both intending to be dead sportsmen.

"Very good, sir," I said, "but I trust I may be allowed to brew theHonourable George his tea before leaving? I'd hardly like to trust tohim alone with it, sir."

"Yes, sir," he said, so respectfully that it gave me an odd feeling."Take your time, Mr. Ruggles. I don't know as I am in any hurry on myown account. It's only account of Her."

I trust it will be remembered that in reporting this person's speechesI am making an earnest effort to set them down word for word in alltheir terrific peculiarities. I mean to say, I would not be heldaccountable for his phrasing, and if I corrected his speech, as ofcourse the tendency is, our identities might become confused. I hopethis will be understood when I report him as saying things in ways onedoesn't word them. I mean to say that it should not be thought that Iwould say them in this way if it chanced that I were saying the samethings in my proper person. I fancy this should now be plain.

"Very well, sir," I said.

"If it was me," he went on, "I wouldn't want you a little bit. Butit's Her. She's got her mind made up to do the right thing and have usall be somebody, and when she makes her mind up----" He hesitated andstudied the ceiling for some seconds. "Believe me," he continued,"Mrs. Effie is some wildcat!"

"Yes, sir--some wildcat," I repeated.

"Believe _me_, Bill," he said again, quaintly addressing me by aname not my own--"believe me, she'd fight a rattlesnake and give itthe first two bites."

Again let it be recalled that I put down this extraordinary speechexactly as I heard it. I thought to detect in it that grotesqueexaggeration with which the Americans so distressingly embellish theirhumour. I mean to say, it could hardly have been meant in allseriousness. So far as my researches have extended, the rattlesnake isan invariably poisonous reptile. Fancy giving one so downright anadvantage as the first two bites, or even one bite, although I believethe thing does not in fact bite at all, but does one down with itsforked tongue, of which there is an excellent drawing in my littlevolume, "Inquire Within; 1,000 Useful Facts."

"Yes, sir," I replied, somewhat at a loss; "quite so, sir!"

"I just thought I'd wise you up beforehand."

"Thank you, sir," I said, for his intention beneath the weird jargonwas somehow benevolent. "And if you'll be good enough to wait until Ihave taken tea to the Honourable George----"

"How is the Judge this morning?" he broke in.

"The Judge, sir?" I was at a loss, until he gestured toward the roomof the Honourable George.

"The Judge, yes. Ain't he a justice of the peace or something?"

"But no, sir; not at all, sir."

"Then what do you call him 'Honourable' for, if he ain't a judge orsomething?"

"Well, sir, it's done, sir," I explained, but I fear he was unable tocatch my meaning, for a moment later (the Honourable George, hearingour voices, had thrown a boot smartly against the door) he wasaddressing him as "Judge" and thereafter continued to do so, nor didthe Honourable George seem to make any moment of being thus miscalled.

I served the Ceylon tea, together with biscuits and marmalade, thewhile our caller chatted nervously. He had, it appeared, procured hisown breakfast while on his way to us.

"I got to have my ham and eggs of a morning," he confided. "But shewon't let me have anything at that hotel but a continental breakfast,which is nothing but coffee and toast and some of that there sauceyou're eating. She says when I'm on the continent I got to eat acontinental breakfast, because that's the smart thing to do, and notstuff myself like I was on the ranch; but I got that game beat bothways from the jack. I duck out every morning before she's up. I founda place where you can get regular ham and eggs."

"Regular ham and eggs?" murmured the Honourable George.

"French ham and eggs is a joke. They put a slice of boiled ham in alittle dish, slosh a couple of eggs on it, and tuck the dish into theoven a few minutes. Say, they won't ever believe that back in Red Gapwhen I tell it. But I found this here little place where they do itright, account of Americans having made trouble so much over the otherway. But, mind you, don't let on to her," he warned me suddenly.

"Certainly not, sir," I said. "Trust me to be discreet, sir."

"All right, then. Maybe we'll get on better than what I thought wewould. I was looking for trouble with you, the way she's been talkingabout what you'd do for me."

"I trust matters will be pleasant, sir," I replied.

"I can be pushed just so far," he curiously warned me, "and nofarther--not by any man that wears hair."

"Yes, sir," I said again, wondering what the wearing of hair mightmean to this process of pushing him, and feeling rather absurdly gladthat my own face is smoothly shaven.

"You'll find Ruggles fairish enough after you've got used to hisways," put in the Honourable George.

"All right, Judge; and remember it wasn't my doings," said my newemployer, rising and pulling down to his ears his fearful bowler hat."And now we better report to her before she does a hot-foot over here.You can pack your grip later in the day," he added to me.

"Pack my grip--yes, sir," I said numbly, for I was on the tick ofleaving the Honourable George helpless in bed. In a voice that I fearwas broken I spoke of clothes for the day's wear which I had laid outfor him the night before. He waved a hand bravely at us and sank backinto his pillow as my new employer led me forth. There had been barelya glance between us to betoken the dreadfulness of the moment.

At our door I was pleased to note that a taximetre cab awaited us. Ihad acutely dreaded a walk through the streets, even of Paris, with mynew employer garbed as he was. The blue satin cravat of itself wouldhave been bound to insure us more attention than one would care for.

I fear we were both somewhat moody during the short ride. Each of usseemed to have matters of weight to reflect upon. Only upon reachingour destination did my companion brighten a bit. For a fare of fivefrancs forty centimes he gave the driver a ten-franc piece and waitedfor no change.

"I always get around them that way," he said with an expression of thebrightest cunning. "She used to have the laugh on me because I got somuch counterfeit money handed to me. Now I don't take any change atall."

"Yes, sir," I said. "Quite right, sir."

"There's more than one way to skin a cat," he added as we ascended tothe Floud's drawing-room, though why his mind should have flown tothis brutal sport, if it be a sport, was quite beyond me. At the doorhe paused and hissed at me: "Remember, no matter what she says, if youtreat me white I'll treat you white." And before I could frame anysuitable response to this puzzling announcement he had opened the doorand pushed me in, almost before I could remove my cap.

Seated at the table over coffee and rolls was Mrs. Effie. Her facebrightened as she saw me, then froze to disapproval as her glancerested upon him I was to know as Cousin Egbert. I saw her capablemouth set in a straight line of determination.

"You did your very worst, didn't you?" she began. "But sit down andeat your breakfast. He'll soon change _that_." She turned to me."Now, Ruggles, I hope you understand the situation, and I'm sure I cantrust you to take no nonsense from him. You see plainly what you'vegot to do. I let him dress to suit himself this morning, so that youcould know the worst at once. Take a good look at him--shoes, coat,hat--that dreadful cravat!"

"I call this a right pretty necktie," mumbled her victim over a crustof toast. She had poured coffee for him.

"You hear that?" she asked me. I bowed sympathetically.

"What does he look like?" she insisted. "Just tell him for his owngood, please."

But this I could not do. True enough, during our short ride he hadbeen reminding me of one of a pair of cross-talk comedians I had onceseen in a music-hall. This, of course, was not a thing one could say.

"I dare say, Madam, he could be smartened up a bit. If I might takehim to some good-class shop----"

"And burn the things he's got on----" she broke in.

"Not this here necktie," interrupted Cousin Egbert rather stubbornly."It was give to me by Jeff Tuttle's littlest girl last Christmas; andthis here Prince Albert coat--what's the matter of it, I'd like toknow? It come right from the One Price Clothing Store at Red Gap, andit's plenty good to go to funerals in----"

"And then to a barber-shop with him," went on Mrs. Effie, who had paidno heed to his outburst. "Get him done right for once."

Her relative continued to nibble nervously at a bit of toast.

"I've done something with him myself," she said, watching himnarrowly. "At first he insisted on having the whole bill-of-fare forbreakfast, but I put my foot down, and now he's satisfied with thecontinental breakfast. That goes to show he has something in him, ifwe can only bring it out."

"I want him to look like some one," she resumed, "and I think you'rethe man can make him if you're firm with him; but you'll have to befirm, because he's full of tricks. And if he starts any rough stuff,just come to me."

"Quite so, Madam," I said, but I felt I was blushing with shame athearing one of my own sex so slanged by a woman. That sort of thingwould never do with us. And yet there was something about thiswoman--something weirdly authoritative. She showed rather well in themorning light, her gray eyes crackling as she talked. She was wearinga most elaborate peignoir, and of course she should not have worn thediamonds; it seemed almost too much like the morning hour of a stagefavourite; but still one felt that when she talked one would do wellto listen.

Hereupon Cousin Egbert startled me once more.

"Won't you set up and have something with us, Mr. Ruggles?" he asked me.

I looked away, affecting not to have heard, and could feel Mrs. Effiescowling at him. He coughed into his cup and sprayed coffee well overhimself. His intention had been obvious in the main, though exactlywhat he had meant by "setting up" I couldn't fancy--as if I had been aperforming poodle!

The moment's embarrassment was well covered by Mrs. Effie, who againrenewed her instructions, and from an escritoire brought me a sheaf ofthe pretentiously printed sheets which the French use in place of ourbanknotes.

"You will spare no expense," she directed, "and don't let me see himagain until he looks like some one. Try to have him back here by five.Some very smart friends of ours are coming for tea."

"I won't drink tea at that outlandish hour for any one," said CousinEgbert rather snappishly.

"You will at least refuse it like a man of the world, I hope," shereplied icily, and he drooped submissive once more. "You see?" sheadded to me.

"Quite so, Madam," I said, and resolved to be firm and thorough withCousin Egbert. In a way I was put upon my mettle. I swore to make himlook like some one. Moreover, I now saw that his half-veiled threatsof rebellion to me had been pure swank. I had in turn but to threatento report him to this woman and he would be as clay in my hands.

I presently had him tucked into a closed taxicab, half-heartedlymuttering expostulations and protests to which I paid not the leastheed. During my strolls I had observed in what would have been RegentStreet at home a rather good-class shop with an English name, and tothis I now proceeded with my charge. I am afraid I rather hustled himacross the pavement and into the shop, not knowing what tricks hemight be up to, and not until he was well to the back did I attempt toexplain myself to the shop-walker who had followed us. To him I thengave details of my charge's escape from a burning hotel the previousnight, which accounted for his extraordinary garb of the moment, hehaving been obliged to accept the loan of garments that neither fittedhim nor harmonized with one another. I mean to say, I did not care tohave the chap suspect we would don tan boots, a frock-coat, and bowlerhat except under the most tremendous compulsion.

Cousin Egbert stared at me open mouthed during this recital, but theshop-walker was only too readily convinced, as indeed who would nothave been, and called an intelligent assistant to relieve ourdistress. With his help I swiftly selected an outfit that was not halfbad for ready-to-wear garments. There was a black morning-coat, snugat the waist, moderately broad at the shoulders, closing with twobuttons, its skirt sharply cut away from the lower button and reachingto the bend of the knee. The lapels were, of course, soft-rolled andjoined the collar with a triangular notch. It is a coat of immensecharacter when properly worn, and I was delighted to observe in thetrying on that Cousin Egbert filled it rather smartly. Moreover, hesubmitted more meekly than I had hoped. The trousers I selected wereof gray cloth, faintly striped, the waistcoat being of the samematerial as the coat, relieved at the neck-opening by an edging ofwhite.

With the boots I had rather more trouble, as he refused to wear thepatent leathers that I selected, together with the pearl gray spats,until I grimly requested the telephone assistant to put me through tothe hotel, desiring to speak to Mrs. Senator Floud. This brought himaround, although muttering, and I had less trouble with shirts,collars, and cravats. I chose a shirt of white pique, a wing collarwith small, square-cornered tabs, and a pearl ascot.

Then in a cabinet I superintended Cousin Egbert's change of raiment.We clashed again in the matter of sock-suspenders, which I wasastounded to observe he did not possess. He insisted that he had neverworn them--garters he called them--and never would if he were shot forit, so I decided to be content with what I had already gained.

By dint of urging and threatening I at length achieved my ground-workand was more than a little pleased with my effect, as was theshop-assistant, after I had tied the pearl ascot and adjusted a quiettie-pin of my own choosing.

He gave it up rebelliously, and I had again to threaten him with thetelephone before he would submit to a top-hat with a moderate bell andbroad brim. Surveying this in the glass, however, he becameperceptibly reconciled. It was plain that he rather fancied it, thoughas yet he wore it consciously and would turn his head slowly andpainfully, as if his neck were stiffened.

Having chosen the proper gloves, I was, I repeat, more than pleasedwith this severely simple scheme of black, white, and gray. I felt Ihad been wise to resist any tendency to colour, even to the mostdelicate of pastel tints. My last selection was a smartish Malaccastick, the ideal stick for town wear, which I thrust into thedefenceless hands of my client.

"And now, sir," I said firmly, "it is but a step to a barber's stopwhere English is spoken." And ruefully he accompanied me. I dare saythat by that time he had discovered that I was not to be trifled with,for during his hour in the barber's chair he did not once rebelopenly. Only at times would he roll his eyes to mine in dumb appeal.There was in them something of the utter confiding helplessness I hadnoted in the eyes of an old setter at Chaynes-Wotten when I had beencalled upon to assist the undergardener in chloroforming him. I meanto say, the dog had jolly well known something terrible was being doneto him, yet his eyes seemed to say he knew it must be all for the bestand that he trusted us. It was this look I caught as I gave directionsabout the trimming of the hair, and especially when I directed thatsomething radical should be done to the long, grayish moustache thatfell to either side of his chin in the form of a horseshoe. I myselfwas puzzled by this difficulty, but the barber solved it ratherneatly, I thought, after a whispered consultation with me. He snippeda bit off each end and then stoutly waxed the whole affair until theends stood stiffly out with distinct military implications. I shallnever forget, and indeed I was not a little touched by the look ofquivering anguish in the eyes of my client when he first beheld thisnovel effect. And yet when we were once more in the street I could notbut admit that the change was worth all that it had cost him insuffering. Strangely, he now looked like some one, especially after Ihad persuaded him to a carnation for his buttonhole. I cannot say thathis carriage was all that it should have been, and he was stillconscious of his smart attire, but I nevertheless felt a distinctthrill of pride in my own work, and was eager to reveal him to Mrs.Effie in his new guise.

But first he would have luncheon--dinner he called it--and I was notaverse to this, for I had put in a long and trying morning. I wentwith him to the little restaurant where Americans had made so muchtrouble about ham and eggs, and there he insisted that I should joinhim in chops and potatoes and ale. I thought it only proper then topoint out to him that there was certain differences in our walks oflife which should be more or less denoted by his manner of addressingme. Among other things he should not address me as Mr. Ruggles, norwas it customary for a valet to eat at the same table with his master.He seemed much interested in these distinctions and thereuponaddressed me as "Colonel," which was of course quite absurd, but thisI could not make him see. Thereafter, I may say, that he called meimpartially either "Colonel" or "Bill." It was a situation that I hadnever before been obliged to meet, and I found it trying in theextreme. He was a chap who seemed ready to pal up with any one, and Icould not but recall the strange assertion I had so often heard thatin America one never knows who is one's superior. Fancy that! It wouldnever do with us. I could only determine to be on my guard.

Our luncheon done, he consented to accompany me to the hotel of theHonourable George, whence I wished to remove my belongings. I shouldhave preferred to go alone, but I was too fearful of what he might doto himself or his clothes in my absence.

We found the Honourable George still in bed, as I had feared. He had,it seemed, been unable to discover his collar studs, which, though Ihad placed them in a fresh shirt for him, he had carelessly coveredwith a blanket. Begging Cousin Egbert to be seated in my room, I did afew of the more obvious things required by my late master.

"You'd leave me here like a rat in a trap," he said reproachfully,which I thought almost quite a little unjust. I mean to say, it hadall been his own doing, he having lost me in the game of drawingpoker, so why should he row me about it now? I silently laid out theshirt once more.

"You might have told me where I'm to find my brown tweeds and the bodylinen."

Again he was addressing me as if I had voluntarily left him withoutnotice, but I observed that he was still mildly speckled from thenight before, so I handed him the fruit-lozenges, and went to pack myown box. Cousin Egbert I found sitting as I had left him, on the edgeof a chair, carefully holding his hat, stick, and gloves, and staringinto the wall. He had promised me faithfully not to fumble with hiscravat, and evidently he had not once stirred. I packed my boxswiftly--my "grip," as he called it--and we were presently off oncemore, without another sight of the Honourable George, who was to joinus at tea. I could hear him moving about, using rather ultra-frightfullanguage, but I lacked heart for further speech with him at themoment.

An hour later, in the Floud drawing-room, I had the supremesatisfaction of displaying to Mrs. Effie the happy changes I had beenable to effect in my charge. Posing him, I knocked at the door of herchamber. She came at once and drew a long breath as she surveyed him,from varnished boots, spats, and coat to top-hat, which he still wore.He leaned rather well on his stick, the hand to his hip, the elbowout, while the other hand lightly held his gloves. A moment shelooked, then gave a low cry of wonder and delight, so that I feltrepaid for my trouble. Indeed, as she faced me to thank me I could seethat her eyes were dimmed.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Now he looks like some one!" And Idistinctly perceived that only just in time did she repress an impulseto grasp me by the hand. Under the circumstances I am not sure that Iwouldn't have overlooked the lapse had she yielded to it. "Wonderful!"she said again.

[Illustration: "WONDERFUL! NOW HE LOOKS LIKE SOME ONE"]

Hereupon Cousin Egbert, much embarrassed, leaned his stick against thewall; the stick fell, and in reaching down for it his hat fell, and inreaching for that he dropped his gloves; but I soon restored him toorder and he was safely seated where he might be studied in furtherdetail, especially as to his moustaches, which I had considered ratherthe supreme touch.

"Like a man about town," she murmured. "Who would have thought he hadit in him until you brought it out?" I knew then that we two shouldunderstand each other.

The slight tension was here relieved by two of the hotel servants whobrought tea things. At a nod from Mrs. Effie I directed the laying outof these.

At that moment came the other Floud, he of the eyebrows, and a cousincub called Elmer, who, I understood, studied art. I became aware thatthey were both suddenly engaged and silenced by the sight of CousinEgbert. I caught their amazed stares, and then terrifically they brokeinto gales of laughter. The cub threw himself on a couch, waving hisfeet in the air, and holding his middle as if he'd suffered a suddenacute dyspepsia, while the elder threw his head back and shriekedhysterically. Cousin Egbert merely glared at them and, endeavouringto stroke his moustache, succeeded in unwaxing one side of it so thatit once more hung limply down his chin, whereat they renewed theirboorishness. The elder Floud was now quite dangerously purple, and thecub on the couch was shrieking: "No matter how dark the clouds, remembershe is still your stepmother," or words to some such silly effect asthat. How it might have ended I hardly dare conjecture--perhaps CousinEgbert would presently have roughed them--but a knock sounded, and itbecame my duty to open our door upon other guests, women mostly;Americans in Paris; that sort of thing.

I served the tea amid their babble. The Honourable George was shown upa bit later, having done to himself quite all I thought he might inthe matter of dress. In spite of serious discrepancies in his attire,however, I saw that Mrs. Effie meant to lionize him tremendously. Withvast ceremony he was presented to her guests--the Honourable GeorgeAugustus Vane-Basingwell, brother of his lordship the Earl ofBrinstead. The women fluttered about him rather, though he behavedmoodily, and at the first opportunity fell to the tea and cakes quitewholeheartedly.

In spite of my aversion to the American wilderness, I felt a bit ofprofessional pride in reflecting that my first day in this new servicewas about to end so auspiciously. Yet even in that moment, being asyet unfamiliar with the room's lesser furniture, I stumbled slightlyagainst a hassock hid from me by the tray I carried. A cup of tea waslost, though my recovery was quick. Too late I observed that thehitherto self-effacing Cousin Egbert was in range of my clumsiness.

"There goes tea all over my new pants!" he said in a high, painedvoice.

I most truly would have liked to shake him smartly for this. I sawthat my work was cut out for me among these Americans, from whom attheir best one expects so little.

CHAPTER THREE

As I brisked out of bed the following morning at half-after six, Icould not but wonder rather nervously what the day might have in storefor me. I was obliged to admit that what I was in for looked a bitthick. As I opened my door I heard stealthy footsteps down the halland looked out in time to observe Cousin Egbert entering his own room.It was not this that startled me. He would have been abroad, I knew,for the ham and eggs that were forbidden him. Yet I stood aghast, forwith the lounge-suit of tweeds I had selected the day before he hadworn his top-hat! I am aware that these things I relate of him may notbe credited. I can only put them down in all sincerity.

I hastened to him and removed the thing from his head. I fear it wasnot with the utmost deference, for I have my human moments.

"It's not done, sir," I protested. He saw that I was offended.

"All right, sir," he replied meekly. "But how was I to know? I thoughtit kind of set me off." He referred to it as a "stove-pipe" hat. Iknew then that I should find myself overlooking many things in him. Hewas not a person one could be stern with, and I even promised thatMrs. Effie should not be told of his offence, he promising in turnnever again to stir abroad without first submitting himself to me andagreeing also to wear sock-suspenders from that day forth. I saw,indeed, that diplomacy might work wonders with him.

At breakfast in the drawing-room, during which Cousin Egbert earnedwarm praise from Mrs. Effie for his lack of appetite (he winkingviolently at me during this), I learned that I should be expected toaccompany him to a certain art gallery which corresponds to ourBritish Museum. I was a bit surprised, indeed, to learn that helargely spent his days there, and was accustomed to make notes of thevarious objects of interest.

"I insisted," explained Mrs. Effie, "that he should absorb all theculture he could on his trip abroad, so I got him a notebook in whichhe puts down his impressions, and I must say he's done fine. Some ofhis remarks are so good that when he gets home I may have him read apaper before our Onwards and Upwards Club."

Cousin Egbert wriggled modestly at this and said: "Shucks!" which Itook to be a term of deprecation.

"You needn't pretend," said Mrs. Effie. "Just let Ruggles here lookover some of the notes you have made," and she handed me a notebook ofruled paper in which there was a deal of writing. I glanced, asbidden, at one or two of the paragraphs, and confess that I, too, wasamazed at the fluency and insight displayed along lines in which Ishould have thought the man entirely uninformed. "This choice workrepresents the first or formative period of the Master," began onenote, "but distinctly foreshadows that later method which made him atonce the hope and despair of his contemporaries. In the 'Portrait ofthe Artist by Himself' we have a canvas that well repays patientstudy, since here is displayed in its full flower that ruthlessrealism, happily attenuated by a superbly subtle delicacy of brushwork----" It was really quite amazing, and I perceived for the firsttime that Cousin Egbert must be "a diamond in the rough," as thewell-known saying has it. I felt, indeed, that I would be very pleasedto accompany him on one of his instructive strolls through thisgallery, for I have always been of a studious habit and anxious toimprove myself in the fine arts.

"You see?" asked Mrs. Effie, when I had perused this fragment. "Andyet folks back home would tell you that he's just a----" Cousin Egberthere coughed alarmingly. "No matter," she continued. "He'll show themthat he's got something in him, mark my words."

"Quite so, Madam," I said, "and I shall consider it a privilege to bepresent when he further prosecutes his art studies."

"You may keep him out till dinner-time," she continued. "I'm shoppingthis morning, and in the afternoon I shall motor to have tea in theBoy with the Senator and Mr. Nevil Vane-Basingwell."

Presently, then, my charge and I set out for what I hoped was to be apeaceful and instructive day among objects of art, though first I wasobliged to escort him to a hatter's and glover's to remedy some minordiscrepancies in his attire. He was very pleased when I permitted himto select his own hat. I was safe in this, as the shop was reallyartists in gentlemen's headwear, and carried only shapes, I observed,that were confined to exclusive firms so as to insure their being wornby the right set. As to gloves and a stick, he was again ratherpettish and had to be set right with some firmness. He declared he hadlost his stick and gloves of the previous day. I discovered later thathe had presented them to the lift attendant. But I soon convinced himthat he would not be let to appear without these adjuncts to agentleman's toilet.

Then, having once more stood by at the barber's while he was shavedand his moustaches firmly waxed anew, I saw that he was fit at lastfor his art studies. The barber this day suggested curling themoustaches with a heated iron, but at this my charge fell into sounseemly a rage that I deemed it wise not to insist. He, indeed,bluntly threatened a nameless violence to the barber if he were somuch as touched with the iron, and revealed an altogether shockinggift for profanity, saying loudly: "I'll be--dashed--if you will!" Imean to say, I have written "dashed" for what he actually said. But atlength I had him once more quieted.

"Now, sir," I said, when I had got him from the barber's shop, to thebarber's manifest relief: "I fancy we've time to do a few objects ofart before luncheon. I've the book here for your comments," I added.

"Quite so," he replied, and led me at a rapid pace along the street inwhat I presumed was the direction of the art museum. At the end of afew blocks he paused at one of those open-air public houses thatdisgracefully line the streets of the French capital. I mean to saythat chairs and tables are set out upon the pavement in the mostbrazen manner and occupied by the populace, who there drink theirsilly beverages and idle away their time. After scanning the score orso of persons present, even at so early an hour as ten of the morning,he fell into one of the iron chairs at one of the iron tables andmotioned me to another at his side.

When I had seated myself he said "Beer" to the waiter who appeared,and held up two fingers.

"Now, look at here," he resumed to me, "this is a good place to doabout four pages of art, and then we can go out and have somerecreation somewhere." Seeing that I was puzzled, he added: "Thisway--you take that notebook and write in it out of this here otherbook till I think you've done enough, then I'll tell you to stop." Andwhile I was still bewildered, he drew from an inner pocket a small,well-thumbed volume which I took from him and saw to be entitled "OneHundred Masterpieces of the Louvre."

"Open her about the middle," he directed, "and pick out something thatbegins good, like 'Here the true art-lover will stand entranced----'You got to write it, because I guess you can write faster than what Ican. I'll tell her I dictated to you. Get a hustle on now, so's we canget through. Write down about four pages of that stuff."

Stunned I was for a moment at his audacity. Too plainly I saw throughhis deception. Each day, doubtless, he had come to a low place of thissort and copied into the notebook from the printed volume.

"But, sir," I protested, "why not at least go to the gallery wherethese art objects are stored? Copy the notes there if that must bedone."

"I don't know where the darned place is," he confessed. "I did startfor it the first day, but I run into a Punch and Judy show in a littlepark, and I just couldn't get away from it, it was so comical, withall the French kids hollering their heads off at it. Anyway, what'sthe use? I'd rather set here in front of this saloon, where everythingis nice."

"It's very extraordinary, sir," I said, wondering if I oughtn't to cutoff to the hotel and warn Mrs. Effie so that she might do a heatedfoot to him, as he had once expressed it.

"Well, I guess I've got my rights as well as anybody," he insisted."I'll be pushed just so far and no farther, not if I never get anymore cultured than a jack-rabbit. And now you better go on and writeor I'll be--dashed--if I'll ever wear another thing you tell me to."

He had a most bitter and dangerous expression on his face, so Ithought best to humour him once more. Accordingly I set about writingin his notebook from the volume of criticism he had supplied.

"Change a word now and then and skip around here and there," hesuggested as I wrote, "so's it'll sound more like me."

"Quite so, sir," I said, and continued to transcribe from the printedpage. I was beginning the fifth page in the notebook, being in themidst of an enthusiastic description of the bit of statuary entitled"The Winged Victory," when I was startled by a wild yell in my ear.Cousin Egbert had leaped to his feet and now danced in the middle ofthe pavement, waving his stick and hat high in the air and shoutingincoherently. At once we attracted the most undesirable attention fromthe loungers about us, the waiters and the passers-by in the street,many of whom stopped at once to survey my charge with the liveliestinterest. It was then I saw that he had merely wished to attract theattention of some one passing in a cab. Half a block down theboulevard I saw a man likewise waving excitedly, standing erect in thecab to do so. The cab thereupon turned sharply, came back on theopposite side of the street, crossed over to us, and the occupantalighted.

He was an American, as one might have fancied from his behaviour, atall, dark-skinned person, wearing a drooping moustache after theformer style of Cousin Egbert, supplemented by an imperial. He wore aloose-fitting suit of black which had evidently received no properattention from the day he purchased it. Under a folded collar he worea narrow cravat tied in a bowknot, and in the bosom of his white shirtthere sparkled a diamond such as might have come from a collection ofcrown-jewels. This much I had time to notice as he neared us. CousinEgbert had not ceased to shout, nor had he paid the least attention tomy tugs at his coat. When the cab's occupant descended to the pavementthey fell upon each other and did for some moments a wild dance suchas I imagine they might have seen the red Indians of western Americaperform. Most savagely they punched each other, calling out in themeantime: "Well, old horse!" and "Who'd ever expected to see you here,darn your old skin!" (Their actual phrases, be it remembered.)

The crowd, I was glad to note, fell rapidly away, many of themshrugging their shoulders in a way the French have, and even thewaiters about us quickly lost interest in the pair, as if they werehardened to the sight of Americans greeting one another. The two werestill saying: "Well! well!" rather breathlessly, but had become a bitmore coherent.

"Jeff Tuttle, you--dashed--old long-horn!" exclaimed Cousin Egbert.

"Good old Sour-dough!" exploded the other. "Ain't this just like oldhome week!"

"Know you, why, you knock-kneed old Siwash, I could pick out your hidein a tanyard!"

"Well, well, well!" replied Cousin Egbert.

"Well, well, well!" said the other, and again they dealt each othersmart blows.

"Where'd you turn up from?" demanded Cousin Egbert.

"Europe," said the other. "We been all over Europe and Italy--justcome from some place up over the divide where they talk Dutch, theMadam and the two girls and me, with the Reverend Timmins and his wiferiding line on us. Say, he's an out-and-out devil for cathedrals--it'sjust one church after another with him--Baptist, Methodist,Presbyterian, Lutheran, takes 'em all in--never overlooks a bet. He'sgot Addie and the girls out now. My gosh! it's solemn work! Me? Iducked out this morning."

"How'd you do it?"

"Told the little woman I had to have a tooth pulled--I was working itup on the train all day yesterday. Say, what you all rigged out likethat for, Sour-dough, and what you done to your face?"

Cousin Egbert here turned to me in some embarrassment. "ColonelRuggles, shake hands with my friend Jeff Tuttle from the State ofWashington."

"Pleased to meet you, Colonel," said the other before I could explainthat I had no military title whatever, never having, in fact, servedour King, even in the ranks. He shook my hand warmly.

"Any friend of Sour-dough Floud's is all right with me," he assuredme. "What's the matter with having a drink?"

"Say, listen here! I wouldn't have to be blinded and backed into it,"said Cousin Egbert, enigmatically, I thought, but as they sat down I,too, seated myself. Something within me had sounded a warning. As wellas I know it now I knew then in my inmost soul that I should summonMrs. Effie before matters went farther.

"Beer is all I know how to say," suggested Cousin Egbert.

"Leave that to me," said his new friend masterfully. "Where's the boy?Here, boy! Veesky-soda! That's French for high-ball," he explained."I've had to pick up a lot of their lingo."

Cousin Egbert looked at him admiringly. "Good old Jeff!" he saidsimply. He glanced aside to me for a second with downright hostility,then turned back to his friend. "Something tells me, Jeff, that thisis going to be the first happy day I've had since I crossed the stateline. I've been pestered to death, Jeff--what with Mrs. Effie after meto improve myself so's I can be a social credit to her back in RedGap, and learn to wear clothes and go without my breakfast and attendart galleries. If you'd stand by me I'd throw her down good and hardright now, but you know what she is----"

"I sure do," put in Mr. Tuttle so fervently that I knew he spoke thetruth. "That woman can bite through nails. But here's your drink,Sour-dough. Maybe it will cheer you up."

Extraordinary! I mean to say, biting through nails.

"Three rousing cheers!" exclaimed Cousin Egbert with more animationthan I had ever known him display.

"Here's looking at you, Colonel," said his friend to me, whereupon Ipartook of the drink, not wishing to offend him. Decidedly he was notvogue. His hat was remarkable, being of a black felt with high crownand a wide and flopping brim. Across his waistcoat was a watch-chainof heavy links, with a weighty charm consisting of a sculptured goldhorse in full gallop. That sort of thing would never do with us.

"Here, George," he immediately called to the waiter, for they hadquickly drained their glasses, "tell the bartender three more. Bygosh! but that's good, after the way I've been held down."

"Me, too," said Cousin Egbert. "I didn't know how to say it inFrench."

"The Reverend held me down," continued the Tuttle person. "'A glass ofnative wine,' he says, 'may perhaps be taken now and then withoutharm.' 'Well,' I says, 'leave us have ales, wines, liquors, andcigars,' I says, but not him. I'd get a thimbleful of elderberry wineor something about every second Friday, except when I'd duck out theside door of a church and find some caffy. Here, George, foomer,foomer--bring us some seegars, and then stay on that spot--I may wantyou."

"Well, well!" said Cousin Egbert again, as if the meeting were stillincredible.

"You old stinging-lizard!" responded the other affectionately. Thecigars were brought and I felt constrained to light one.

"The State of Washington needn't ever get nervous over the prospect oflosing me," said the Tuttle person, biting off the end of his cigar.

I gathered at once that the Americans have actually named one of ourcolonies "Washington" after the rebel George Washington, though onewould have thought that the indelicacy of this would have been onlytoo apparent. But, then, I recalled, as well, the city where theirso-called parliament assembles, Washington, D. C. Doubtless theinitials indicate that it was named in "honour" of another member ofthis notorious family. I could not but reflect how shocked our Kingwould be to learn of this effrontery.

Cousin Egbert, who had been for some moments moving his lips withoutsound, here spoke:

"I'm going to try it myself," he said. "Here, Charley, veesky-soda! Hemade me right off," he continued as the waiter disappeared. "Say,Jeff, I bet I could have learned a lot of this language if I'd hadsome one like you around."

"Well, it took me some time to get the accent," replied the other witha modesty which I could detect was assumed. More acutely than ever wasI conscious of a psychic warning to separate these two, and I resolvedto act upon it with the utmost diplomacy. The third whiskey and sodawas served us.

"Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert.

"Here's looking at you!" said the other, and I drank. When my glass wasdrained I arose briskly and said:

"I think we should be getting along now, sir, if Mr. Tuttle will begood enough to excuse us." They both stared at me.

"Can't he talk setting down?" asked the other. "Does he have to standup every time he talks? Ain't that a good chair?" he demanded of me."Here, take mine," and to my great embarrassment he arose and offeredme his chair in such a manner that I felt moved to accept it.Thereupon he took the chair I had vacated and beamed upon us, "Nowthat we're all home-folks, together once more, I would suggest a bitof refreshment. Boy, veesky-soda!"

"I fancy so, sir," said Cousin Egbert, dreamily contemplating me asthe order was served. I was conscious even then that he seemed to bestudying my attire with a critical eye, and indeed he remarked as ifto himself: "What a coat!" I was rather shocked by this, for my suitwas quite a decent lounge-suit that had become too snug for theHonourable George some two years before. Yet something warned me toignore the comment.

"Three rousing cheers!" he said as the drink was served.

"Here's looking at you!" said the Tuttle person.

And again I drank with them, against my better judgment, wondering ifI might escape long enough to be put through to Mrs. Floud on thetelephone. Too plainly the situation was rapidly getting out of hand,and yet I hesitated. The Tuttle person under an exterior geniality wasrather abrupt. And, moreover, I now recalled having observed a personmuch like him in manner and attire in a certain cinema drama of thefar Wild West. He had been a constable or sheriff in the piece and hadsubdued a band of armed border ruffians with only a small pocketpistol. I thought it as well not to cross him.

When they had drunk, each one again said, "Well! well!"

"You old maverick!" said Cousin Egbert.

"You--dashed--old horned toad!" responded his friend.

"What's the matter with a little snack?"

"Not a thing on earth. My appetite ain't been so powerful cravingsince Heck was a pup."

These were their actual words, though it may not be believed. TheTuttle person now approached his cabman, who had waited beside thecurb.

"Say, Frank," he began, "Ally restorong," and this he supplementedwith a crude but informing pantomime of one eating. Cousin Egbert wasalready seated in the cab, and I could do nothing but follow. "Allyrestorong!" commanded our new friend in a louder tone, and the cabmanwith an explosion of understanding drove rapidly off.

"It's a genuine wonder to me how you learned the language so quick,"said Cousin Egbert.

"It's all in the accent," protested the other. I occupied a narrowseat in the front. Facing me in the back seat, they lolled easily andsmoked their cigars. Down the thronged boulevard we proceeded at arapid pace and were passing presently before an immense gray edificewhich I recognized as the so-called Louvre from its illustration onthe cover of Cousin Egbert's art book. He himself regarded it withinterest, though I fancy he did not recognize it, for, waving hiscigar toward it, he announced to his friend:

"The Public Library." His friend surveyed the building with every signof approval.

"That Carnegie is a hot sport, all right," he declared warmly. "I'llbet that shack set him back some."

"Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert, without point that I coulddetect.

We now crossed their Thames over what would have been WestminsterBridge, I fancy, and were presently bowling through a sort ofBattersea part of the city. The streets grew quite narrow and theshops smaller, and I found myself wondering not without alarm whatsort of restaurant our abrupt friend had chosen.

"Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert from time to time, withalmost childish delight.

Debouching from a narrow street again into what the French term aboulevard, we halted before what was indeed a restaurant, for severaltables were laid on the pavement before the door, but I saw at oncethat it was anything but a nice place. "Au Rendezvous des CochersFideles," read the announcement on the flap of the awning, and trulyenough it was a low resort frequented by cabbies--"The meeting-placeof faithful coachmen." Along the curb half a score of horses wereeating from their bags, while their drivers lounged before the place,eating, drinking, and conversing excitedly in their grotesque jargon.

We descended, in spite of the repellent aspect of the place, and ourdriver went to the foot of the line, where he fed his own horse.Cousin Egbert, already at one of the open-air tables, was rappingsmartly for a waiter.

"What's the matter with having just one little one before grub?" askedthe Tuttle person as we joined him. He had a most curious fashion ofspeech. I mean to say, when he suggested anything whatsoever heinvariably wished to know what might be the matter with it.

"Veesky-soda!" demanded Cousin Egbert of the serving person who nowappeared, "and ask your driver to have one," he then urged his friend.

The latter hereupon addressed the cabman who had now come up.

"Vooley-voos take something!" he demanded, and the cabman appeared toaccept.

"Vooley-voos your friends take something, too?" he demanded further,with a gesture that embraced all the cabmen present, and these, too,appeared to accept with the utmost cordiality.

"You're a wonder, Jeff," said Cousin Egbert. "You talk it like aprofessor."

"It come natural to me," said the fellow, "and it's a good thing, too.If you know a little French you can go all over Europe without a bitof trouble."

Inside the place was all activity, for many cabmen were now acceptingthe proffered hospitality, and calling "votry santy!" to their host,who seemed much pleased. Then to my amazement Cousin Egbert insistedthat our cabman should sit at table with us. I trust I have as littlefoolish pride as most people, but this did seem like crowding it on abit thick. In fact, it looked rather dicky. I was glad to rememberthat we were in what seemed to be the foreign quarter of the town,where it was probable that no one would recognize us. The drink came,though our cabman refused the whiskey and secured a bottle of nativewine.

"Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert as we drank once more, andadded as an afterthought, "What a beautiful world we live in!"

"Vooley-voos make-um bring dinner!" said the Tuttle person to thecabman, who thereupon spoke at length in his native tongue to thewaiter. By this means we secured a soup that was not half bad andpresently a stew of mutton which Cousin Egbert declared was "somegoo." To my astonishment I ate heartily, even in such raffishsurroundings. In fact, I found myself pigging it with the rest ofthem. With coffee, cigars were brought from the tobacconist'snext-door, each cabman present accepting one. Our own man was plainlyfeeling a vast pride in his party, and now circulated among hisfellows with an account of our merits.

"This is what I call life," said the Tuttle person, leaning back inhis chair.

"I'm coming right back here every day," declared Cousin Egberthappily.

"What's the matter with a little drive to see some well-known objectsof interest?" inquired his friend.

"Not art galleries," insisted Cousin Egbert.

"And not churches," said his friend. "Every day's been Sunday with melong enough."

"And not clothing stores," said Cousin Egbert firmly. "The Colonelhere is awful fussy about my clothes," he added.

"Is, heh?" inquired his friend. "How do you like this hat of mine?" heasked, turning to me. It was that sudden I nearly fluffed the catch,but recovered myself in time.

"I should consider it a hat of sound wearing properties, sir," I said.

He took it off, examined it carefully, and replaced it.

"So far, so good," he said gravely. "But why be fussy about clotheswhen God has given you only one life to live?"

"Don't argue about religion," warned Cousin Egbert.

"I always like to see people well dressed, sir," I said, "because itmakes such a difference in their appearance."

"What's the matter of taking a little drive to see some well-knownobjects of interest?" said his friend.

"Not art galleries," said Cousin Egbert firmly.

"We said that before--and not churches."

"And not gents' furnishing goods."

"You said that before."

"Well, you said not churches before."

"Well, what's the matter with taking a little drive?"

"Not art galleries," insisted Cousin Egbert. The thing seemedinterminable. I mean to say, they went about the circle as before. Itlooked to me as if they were having a bit of a spree.

"We'll have one last drink," said the Tuttle person.

"No," said Cousin Egbert firmly, "not another drop. Don't you see thecondition poor Bill here is in?" To my amazement he was referring tome. Candidly, he was attempting to convey the impression that I hadtaken a drop too much. The other regarded me intently.

"Pickled," he said.

"Always affects him that way," said Cousin Egbert. "He's got no headfor it."

"Beg pardon, sir," I said, wishing to explain, but this I was not letto do.

"Don't start anything like that here," broke in the Tuttle person,"the police wouldn't stand for it. Just keep quiet and remember you'reamong friends."

"I fancy so, sir," I answered, and produced from my waistcoat pocketthe small metal-handled affair I have long carried. This he quicklyseized from me.

"You can keep your gun," he remarked, "but you can't be trusted withthis in your condition. I ain't afraid of a gun, but I am afraid of aknife. You could have backed me off the board any time with thisknife."

"Didn't I tell you?" asked Cousin Egbert.

"Beg pardon, sir," I began, for this was drawing it quite too thick,but again he interrupted me.

"We'd better get him away from this place right off," he said.

"A drive in the fresh air might fix him," suggested Cousin Egbert."He's as good a scout as you want to know when he's himself."Hereupon, calling our waiting cabman, they both, to my embarrassment,assisted me to the vehicle.

"Ally caffy!" directed the Tuttle person, and we were driven off, tothe raised hats of the remaining cabmen, through many long, quietstreets.

"I wouldn't have had this happen for anything," said Cousin Egbert,indicating me.

"Lucky I got that knife away from him," said the other.

To this I thought it best to remain silent, it being plain that themen were both well along, so to say.

The cab now approached an open square from which issued discordantblasts of music. One glance showed it to be a street fair. I prayedthat we might pass it, but my companions hailed it with delight and atonce halted the cabby.

"Ally caffy on the corner," directed the Tuttle person, and once morewe were seated at an iron table with whiskey and soda ordered. Beforeus was the street fair in all its silly activity. There were manytinselled booths at which games of chance or marksmanship were played,or at which articles of ornament or household decoration weredisplayed for sale, and about these were throngs of low-class Frenchidling away their afternoon in that mad pursuit of pleasure which isso characteristic of this race. In the centre of the place was acarrousel from which came the blare of a steam orchestrion playing the"Marseillaise," one of their popular songs. From where I sat I couldperceive the circle of gaudily painted beasts that revolved about thismusical atrocity. A fashion of horses seemed to predominate, but therewas also an ostrich (a bearded Frenchman being astride this bird forthe moment), a zebra, a lion, and a gaudily emblazoned giraffe. Ishuddered as I thought of the evil possibilities that might besuggested to my two companions by this affair. For the moment I waspleased to note that they had forgotten my supposed indisposition, yetanother equally absurd complication ensued when the drink arrived.

I readily perceived that they meant me to pay the score, which Iaccordingly did, though I at once suspected the fairness of the game.I mean to say, if my opponent had been a trickster he could easilyhave rearranged his fingers to defeat me before displaying them. I donot say it was done in this instance. I am merely pointing out that itleft open a way to trickery. I mean to say, one would wish to beassured of his opponent's social standing before playing this gameextensively.

No sooner had we finished the drink than the Tuttle person said to me:

"I'll give you one chance to get even. I'll guess your fingers thistime." Accordingly I put one hand behind me and firmly crossed thefingers, fancying that he would guess them to be uncrossed. Instead ofwhich he called out "Crossed," and I was obliged to show them in thatwise, though, as before pointed out, I could easily have defeated himby uncrossing them before revealing my hand. I mean to say, it is noton the face of it a game one would care to play with casualacquaintances, and I questioned even then in my own mind itsprevalence in the States. (As a matter of fact, I may say that in mylater life in the States I could find no trace of it, and now believeit to have been a pure invention on the part of the Tuttle person. Imean to say, I later became convinced that it was, properly speaking,not a game at all.)

Again they were hugely delighted at my loss and rapped smartly on thetable for more drink, and now to my embarrassment I discovered that Ilacked the money to pay for this "round" as they would call it.

"Beg pardon, sir," said I discreetly to Cousin Egbert, "but if youcould let me have a bit of change, a half-crown or so----" To mysurprise he regarded me coldly and shook his head emphatically in thenegative.

"Not me," he said; "I've been had too often. You're a good smoothtalker and you may be all right, but I can't take a chance at my timeof life."

"What's he want now?" asked the other.

"The old story," said Cousin Egbert: "come off and left his purse onthe hatrack or out in the woodshed some place." This was the height ofabsurdity, for I had said nothing of the sort.

"I was looking for something like that," said the other "I never makea mistake in faces. You got a watch there haven't you?"

"Yes, sir," I said, and laid on the table my silver Englishhalf-hunter with Albert. They both fell to examining this withinterest, and presently the Tuttle person spoke up excitedly:

"It came from my brother-in-law, sir," I explained, "six years ago assecurity for a trifling loan."

"He sounds honest enough," said the Tuttle person to Cousin Egbert.

"Yes, but maybe it ain't a regular double Gazottz," said the latter."The market is flooded with imitations."

"No, sir, I can't be fooled on them boys," insisted the other."Blindfold me and I could pick a double Gazottz out every time. I'mgoing to take a chance on it, anyway." Whereupon the fellow pocketedmy watch and from his wallet passed me a note of the so-called Frenchmoney which I was astounded to observe was for the equivalent of fourpounds, or one hundred francs, as the French will have it. "I'lladvance that much on it," he said, "but don't ask for another centuntil I've had it thoroughly gone over by a plumber. It may have mothsin it."

It seemed to me that the chap was quite off his head, for the watchwas worth not more than ten shillings at the most, though what adouble Gazottz might be I could not guess. However, I saw it would bewise to appear to accept the loan, and tendered the note in payment ofthe score.

When I had secured the change I sought to intimate that we should beleaving. I thought even the street fair would be better for us thanthis rapid consumption of stimulants.

"I bet he'd go without buying," said Cousin Egbert.

"No, he wouldn't," said the other. "He knows what's customary in acase like this. He's just a little embarrassed. Wait and see if Iain't right." At which they both sat and stared at me in silence forsome moments until at last I ordered more drink, as I saw was expectedof me.

"He wants the cabman to have one with him," said Cousin Egbert,whereat the other not only beckoned our cabby to join us, but calledto two labourers who were passing, and also induced the waiter whoserved us to join in the "round."

"He seems to have a lot of tough friends," said Cousin Egbert as weall drank, though he well knew I had extended none of theseinvitations.

"Acts like a drunken sailor soon as he gets a little money," said theother.

"Three rousing cheers!" replied Cousin Egbert, and to my great chagrinhe leaped to his feet, seized one of the navvies about the waist, andthere on the public pavement did a crude dance with him to the strainof the "Marseillaise" from the steam orchestrion. Not only this, butwhen the music had ceased he traded hats with the navvy, securing amost shocking affair in place of the new one, and as they parted hepresented the fellow with the gloves and stick I had purchased for himthat very morning. As I stared aghast at this _faux pas_ the navvy,with his new hat at an angle and twirling the stick, proceeded down thestreet with mincing steps and exaggerated airs of gentility, to theapplause of the entire crowd, including Cousin Egbert.

"This ain't quite the hat I want," he said as he returned to us, "butthe day is young. I'll have other chances," and with the help of thepublic-house window as a mirror he adjusted the unmentionable thingwith affectations of great nicety.

"He always was a dressy old scoundrel," remarked the Tuttle person.And then, as the music came to us once more, he continued: "Say,Sour-dough, let's go over to the rodeo--they got some likely lookingbroncs over there."

Arm in arm, accordingly, they crossed the street and proceeded to thecarrousel, first warning the cabby and myself to stay by them lestharm should come to us. What now ensued was perhaps their mostremarkable behaviour at the day. At the time I could account for itonly by the liquor they had consumed, but later experience in theStates convinced me that they were at times consciously spoofing. Imean to say, it was quite too absurd--their seriously believing whatthey seemed to believe.

The carrousel being at rest when we approached, they gravely examinedeach one of the painted wooden effigies, looking into such of themouths as were open, and cautiously feeling the forelegs of thedifferent mounts, keeping up an elaborate pretence the while that thebeasts were real and that they were in danger of being kicked. Oneabsurdly painted horse they agreed would be the most difficult toride. Examining his mouth, they disputed as to his age, and called thecabby to have his opinion of the thing's fetlocks, warning each otherto beware of his rearing. The cabby, who was doubtless alsointoxicated, made an equal pretence of the beast's realness, andindulged, I gathered, in various criticisms of its legs at greatlength.

"I think he's right," remarked the Tuttle person when the cabby hadfinished. "It's a bad case of splints. The leg would be blistered if Ihad him."

"I wouldn't give him corral room," said Cousin Egbert. "He's a badactor. Look at his eye! Whoa! there--you would, would you!" Here hemade a pretence that the beast had seized him by the shoulder. "He's aman-eater! What did I tell you? Keep him away!"

"I'll take that out of him," said the Tuttle person. "I'll show himwho's his master."

"You ain't never going to try to ride him, Jeff? Think of the wife andlittle ones!"

"You know me, Sour-dough. No horse never stepped out from under meyet. I'll not only ride him, but I'll put a silver dollar in eachstirrup and give you a thousand for each one I lose and a thousand forevery time I touch leather."

Cousin Egbert here began to plead tearfully:

"Don't do it, Jeff--come on around here. There's a big five-year-oldroan around here that will be safe as a church for you. Let that pintoalone. They ought to be arrested for having him here."